The Game
by 1wildrose1
Summary: When we're competing, I understand him – his moves, his looks, his mind. But, when it's just us...What kind of game is he playing then? AU ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**This story stemmed from my interest in psychology and human behaviour and recently I have been learning about jealousy, infidelity, rape and murder and how it causes and affects aggression and social response. Those will be important themes in this story, so be warned – this is not a light-hearted one. Be prepared for angst and romance meshed into a warped, psychotic, hopefully interesting mess. Should be fun ;) Enjoy!**

**1wildrose1 .. x**

_**Rating:**_ NC-17  
><em><strong>Pairing (s):<strong>_ Ryou/(?) You're going to have to read to see who he ends up with ;P  
><em><strong>Spoilers:<strong>_ None – this is AU  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ I don't own Yugioh or any of the characters...sadface...  
><em><strong>Summary:<strong>_ When we're competing, I understand him – his moves, his looks, his mind. But, when it's just us...What kind of game was he playing then? AU

_**Warnings:**_** Shounen-ai **(Male/male relationships), **Yaoi** (Male/male sexual relationships – though there will be forewarning of the chapters that contain the explicit stuff), **Language**, **Torture**, **Gore** and **AU**.

Yami Marik = Marik, Marik = Malik, Yami Bakura = Bakura, Bakura = Ryou.

**I apologise in advance for the terrible team names – I suck at naming things and just took the names of the most famous Japanese cities and combined them with the ends of American baseball teams -.- By the way – hollered is not strictly a word, but roll with it.**

**Also note that Seto and Mokuba are not related in this – not that they get together, because that's just grim -.-**

_**Chapter One**_

The Kyoto Killers were restless; today was the big day – they would finally face off with their long time rivals, the Yokohama Beasts. The last time they played them, they returned defeated, having to endure the shame thrust upon them by their home town. The Beasts were treated like kings and, them? Like dogs. But that was the system. The Game was everything, so don't play if you don't know how – that was the saying, anyway; a proverbial 'fuck you' to the Killers and their loss.

They stood there, a door separating them from the arena, cracking their knuckles and rolling their necks, trying to mask their anxiety with false bravado and mocking chuckles. The captain – a tall man, built with raw muscle and an over active ego – turned to his team with a grin. "Boys, you ready?" The other seven growled and hollered in unison, voicing their affirmation. "Great – gear up!" Reinforced helmets were crammed on over-the-top hairstyles, covering faces with metal masks in the shape of a twisted skull – the Killers' trademark.

The sound of a sport-savvy commentator flooded the room._ "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the initiation face-off of Tokyo's own Wargame tournament! As I'm sure you are aware, each team who wish to qualify must compete with last year's winners, the Yokohama Beasts!"_ The Killers could hear the roar of the crowd even from their changing room – it was small, but the closest to the arena that you could get, seeing as they would be the first to be released. Though every prospective team would eventually be in the same game-space together in the initiation match – rather than one-on-one as they would in the official matches – they were let out one by one, in order of the position they finished in the previous year if they had qualified and all at once at the end if they hadn't. The Beasts first, then the Killers, followed by the Osaka Reds, Iwaki Monsters, Fukui Royals, Nagoya Devils, Tottori Tigers, Matsue Titans and then the twelve other teams that hadn't qualified last year.

"_The rules of the tournament initiation stand: if a member of an offensive team takes out a member of the defending team, that team qualifies for the tournament and must leave the arena. Once the last of the Beasts are down, the tournament will officially begin!"_ Nobody expected the Beasts to win, seeing as they were against nineteen other teams – with their eight against one-hundred-and-fifty-two, they were a little outnumbered, eh? In the end, only nine teams would remain, including the Beasts.

The red light above the door flashed, signifying that they were on in thirty seconds. The captain took a deep breath and smashed his fist into his palm. "Let's do this – the Beasts are going down!"

_**Ryou**_

The steady beep of the tracker I was required to wear calmed me, timing my movements and allowing my actions to become so robotic and precise that I could disconnect my sympathy for those I took out – it was just a game, the pain they're going to feel in the morning was through choice. Of course, it wouldn't do for my opponents to hear me coming, so I pressed my back against the nearest wall, checking the vicinity for any threats, and curled my fingers around the long tracker. I re-wrapped it into my thick black body armour, ensuring that the beep was muffled but still allowed it to be on show, as per tournament rules, and readjusted my team's signature weapon – a long black pole with flat panels at each end – against my shoulder.

I pushed off the wall and inched around the corner, careful to check if there was anyone coming. By now, only three teams had been let into the arena, making it fairly easy for me to stroll around without being caught, but why take the risk? We had taken our early start to situate ourselves in different corners of the labyrinthine space – it was made up of twisting corridors and false exits and floors and was much larger than the regular game space. Not only did you have to deal with the other team – in the case of this match, teams – trying to take you out, but the floor occasionally caved in and the walls changed at regular intervals to create a completely new range of paths.

I pressed my lips together as another short-lived siren sounded, signifying the release of another team._ "And in go the Royals!"_ I nodded to myself – that was okay, the Royals were nothing to fear. Our main threat had entered the arena thirty seconds after we had.

I ran through everything I knew about the Killers in my head again, making sure I was fresh – they were instantly recognisable by their skull masks and large baton-like weapons; their fighting style was heavily reliant on strength and brutality, rather than strategy and skill as ours was; their captain – though I'd never seen his face – was particularly huge and not easily taken out. I smiled to myself at that thought – I had been the one to defeat him in the last tournament, thus ending the match and making us, the Yokohama Beasts, the winners. I'd taken a shot and swiped at his knees with my gladiator pole, making him lose balance and lift his defences for just a moment, allowing me to push him flat on his arse and press my weapon to his throat.

He'd had this weird thing for me after that – like, he was desperate to know who I was so he could study my fighting style or something. For revenge purposes, I suppose – he neither saw my face or learned my name, so he never got his wish. During the game, I looked the same as my team mates in my expressionless silver mask with fangs protruding from the bottom and my black body armour – so he would never know it was me. Shame.

I snapped into action when I heard footsteps a few metres from where I was, crouching down and gripping my weapon tight. A tall, muscular body rounded the corner slowly, dressed in bright red and wearing a ski mask – from the Osaka Reds. I had situated myself close to where he came from, so he looked right over my head – brilliant. He yelped and dropped the tournament-safe nunchaku his team carried as I swiped behind his knees and floored him. I snatched his tracker and twisted it, making him groan in defeat. _"The first member of the Osaka Reds is down, courtesy of the Beasts!" _Even the commentator didn't know our identities – to the world, we were just nameless players and we liked it like that.

The poor guy I'd taken out accepted my helping hand to get up and made his way out of the arena. It continued like that for two and a half more minutes, as each of the teams were released in thirty-second intervals before releasing the final twelve at once. The game was on. _"And the first Beast is ooooouuuuut!"_ I frowned mildly, wondering who got ganged up on and taken down – not that it really mattered in this particular match, seeing as we already qualified. _"The Iwaki Monsters are in!"_

_Well isn't that a surprise?_ The same eight teams always got through because they set off early and got an unfair head start – I never saw the point of this because the new teams never stood a chance of even getting close. Whatever.

Another assailant – a guy from a team I didn't recognise. _Wow, he got here this quick?_ Impressive. Either way, he soon met the same fate as the other guy. Though my team were physically the smallest and weakest in the entire tournament – not that the others could tell with all our armour and padding – we were the most strategic, using our opponent's weight and strength against them. I didn't know why we were the only ones that thought of doing that – it was clearly effective – but everyone else were either too stubborn or too boneheaded to change their styles. _"Aaaaannnd there goes the second Beast – the Tottori Tigers are through!"_

I rolled my eyes and crept around corners, chuckling to myself when I heard some poor unfortunate fall down a false floor – probably a new player, because I've never known any of the members from the 'big eight' fall prey to an arena trap. They were more for theatrics than anything in real matches. One by one, it was announced that the Reds were through, then the Royals, the Titans and the Devils within a few seconds of each other. My heart pounded slightly faster when I realised what that meant – I was the last one left; one mouse in a cage full of cats. _Yes_...It was a good kind of fear I was feeling – this was the part I loved.

I snuck around the maze, taking down most of who I came across with ease, seeing as the majority were the amateur teams trying to make the big leagues. Fuck's sake – they were amusing at first, but screw this. I wanted a Killer.

I cracked my neck and began to prowl, no longer on defence. One, two, three more men taken down. This was getting dull..._Shuffle_. My conditioned instincts kicked in as I crouched low and tensed – this was it. I _knew_ it was a Killer – and if I wasn't wrong...yes, the steps were heavy and quickened and slowed sporadically, as though the owner of those feet was trying to calm his mounting excitement. It was the captain – that gait was what led me to him the first time I took him down. I knew he probably remembered my technique, so I adjusted, laying flat on my belly so he wouldn't see me if he crouched and I had time to strike before his peripheral vision detected me.

As I assumed, the twisted skull appeared much lower than I knew to be his natural height. I smirked and thrust my weapon ahead, landing it in the crook at the back of his knee, and twisted, jumping up and using it as leverage to overbalance him. One of his arms flew out and grabbed the front of my body armour instinctively. My free arm wormed through the body lock and gripped his tracker, twisting it before he had a chance to retaliate. "_Killer, out!_" The man below me growled in frustration, making me smile wider and lift off of him.

I went to reach down and help him up, when suddenly I was slammed in the side with a baton. I cried out in shock and pain, whipping around brandishing my weapon. _Oh, balls_...The remaining seven Killers stood there, leering at me in their ominous skeleton masks. Usually, this shit wouldn't be allowed, but when only one member remained on the other team, you could do what the fuck you wanted.

One shot forward and slammed me into the wall behind, ripping my weapon from me while another dug through my armour, grabbing the tracker and twisting. I had no chance. "_And the tournament has officially begun! The competing teams are as follows: the Killers, Reds, Royals, Monsters, Tigers, Devils, Titans and, of course, the Beasts!_"

Well, what do you know? No new teams this year either.

_**XxXxXxXxXxX**_

We were standing in a side room, our whole team with the other seven captains. All ceremony and procedure – our captain would congratulate them and invite them to join the tournament even though they were already in, yadda, yadda. We watched some of the highlights from the match on a big screen, all filmed by the hidden cameras in the maze – one highlight was me decking the Killers' captain. When that scene flashed across the screen, he twitched, obviously annoyed, and I snorted in amusement. His head darted my way at the sound and stared for a few moments – no, you can't come over; ceremony, remember?

"Congratulations to you and your teams – we look forward to facing you all in the upcoming eight weeks." Our captain addressed the others amicably and I had to stifle a laugh – his voice sounded so different when he tried to be formal and dignified with his words, when usually he had a dirty mouth and didn't care what he said. His speech went on and on about nothing useful or noteworthy at all before he finally stopped and spread his hands wide. "Well, rest up – the first match is tomorrow. Royals vs Reds."

The Killer captain looked back towards me and lingered behind, making it clear he wanted to talk. Great. My team all noticed this and shrugged, holding back with me until we were the only ones in the room. "That's the second time." _Well done – you can count!_ Wow, I was in a really bitchy mood today – might be to do with the fact that I got owned by seven men, all about twice my height and weight.

"Yeah?" I motioned for him get to the point.

"Well, I'd like to have a face – or at least a name – to put to the guy that owned me."

"You want me to reveal my identity to you?" Was he kidding?

He looked away for a second, seeming to be thinking, before dropping his baton and raising his hands to his face, pulling off his mask. "I'm Marik." My eyebrows rose beneath my own mask – he was actually quite...well...he was drop dead gorgeous! Holy shit...I hadn't expected that – never mind that he clearly wanted us to break our unspoken rule about keeping our identities secret. We were the only team that had such a rule, but we knew what would happen if we did let them know what we looked like.

"The fuck?" The door was open, revealing the other Killers who had been waiting outside. "Marik, why is your mask off?"

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off me. "I want to know."

_And I really want to run my fingers through that blond hair – looks soft._ "You know our rule."

Marik frowned and beckoned his team mates. "Take off your masks."

"What?" The Killers looked at their captain like he was crazy – revealing their faces to their rivals was risky. What if we found where they were staying and incapacitated them to remove them from the competition? Not that we would, but it had happened before, which was the biggest reason why we, as a team, didn't show our faces – we were well aware how weak we looked and couldn't risk anyone taking advantage. I can't remember who made that rule, because none of us actually gave a shit – it was more tradition now. Maybe one of our predecessors.

"Just do it." Marik barked at his team mates, glaring at them in the brief moment he looked away from me. They all grumbled and unhooked their masks before taking them off. I was quite surprised actually – though a few of them showed clear signs of their violent vocation in their faces, they were all pretty hot. I wrinkled my nose, knowing that I probably viewed them as better looking than they were because I couldn't have any of them – strict tournament rules: no fraternising with the enemy. That or I just _really_ needed to get laid. "Bakura, Yami, Seto, Honda, Raphael, Rishid and Ryota." Marik gestured each man as he introduced them, ignoring their irritated expressions. His eyes never left me. "What about you?"

Our captain shook his head. "We agreed to nothing."

Marik scowled – _someone isn't used to not getting his way_. "We've revealed our faces – doesn't that show that we're willing to extend the hand of trust?"

"It shows that _you_ are – your team, however, didn't want to."

The man that Marik introduced as Yami shrugged and cracked his knuckles in a bored manner. "We don't like being told what to do by this jackass – doesn't mean that we mean any hostility."

I snorted again and one of my own team mates leaned into me, whispering in my ear. "Fuck, he's _hot_." I nudged him in the side, silently agreeing. "Mine." Nodding I made a mental note that Yami was off limits – even though he was anyway; but then again, when did we ever listen to rules? Yugi could have him – I had my eye on bigger fish. I noticed that they all watched our exchange silently, as though the thought we were deciding something major. _If only they knew._

Our captain stepped up next to me, hissing in my ear. "What do you think, Ry? It's you they want to see."

"That may be, but if I show my face, so do you. It's everyone's decision."

"Well, we don't give a shit. Your call."

I sighed and passed my gladiator pole to Jounouchi, our captain, pulling off my thick leather gloves. "We've got to deal, though, Killer – our identities stay between us. Call it trust between enemies."

"Call it what the fuck you want." I paused, tilting my head pointedly, making it clear that I wouldn't continue until he said it. "Fine, deal – right, men?"

The others looked at each other and shrugged – they clearly cared what we looked like. What was with this guy and his obsession? His team didn't give a shit, so why did he? I reached up and pulled back my fitted hood, waving my hair free and unclasping the mask at the back of my head. I pulled the metal about an inch away from my face and grimaced – the heat of my breath had my face sweaty and most likely flushed. Marik made an irritated sound, making me grin internally and finally pull the mask from my face.

His expression dropped. "What?" He furrowed his eyebrows staring at me incredulously. "Are you kidding? I wanted to see the guy that took me down." Charming.

I raised one eyebrow and blinked lazily. "Yeah – and you got what you wanted."

The silver-haired man beside him – Bakura, I think – barked out a laugh and slapped his back. "This must be so embarrassing for you – how funny."

I pouted and crossed my arms – childish, yes, but fuck this. I didn't reveal myself to be laughed at. "Guys, can you please take off your masks and let them all see who took them down."

Jou laughed at my expense and motioned for them to do as I said. Bakura's smirk faltered as he took in the sight. "We were beat by a bunch of fucking nancy boys?"

Malik pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips – such a masculine pose, I know. "Strategy over strength, honey. Us _'nancy boys' _will beat you every time unless you get that."

Valon slapped his palm to his forehead and groaned. "My God, Malik – could you get any gayer?"

"Yeah, I could mount you right here and ride you like a broncho, but that's just not gonna happen." Malik rested his chin on my shoulder and talked low. "There is, however, someone who I _would_ like to ride."

"Do you have to do this here?" Ever since we got drunk a few weeks ago and ended up having sex in his kitchen, Malik had been all over me to re-enact the incident. Of course, we were good friends and I didn't want to ruin that – I mean, if we could be friends with benefits, I'd say yes in a heartbeat, but I knew Malik was not a no-strings-attached kind of guy, no matter how many times he whined to me that he could be. The little blond giggled and stepped back, allowing me to rejoin the group conversation, addressing Marik. "Whatever. You wanted to see my face – you saw it. Was there anything else you wanted to do with this information, other than insult me with it?"

Marik's eyes met mine – they were so violet...so intense. I suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable as he walked right up to me, towering high above my head – so much so that I had to look up to meet his gaze. The silence stretched between us as his breath heated my forehead – I could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. "Your name?"

My...? Oh, right – we hadn't introduced ourselves. Jou cleared his throat and gestured each of us individually. "I'm Jounouchi and this is Malik, Valon, Alister, Yugi, Otogi, Mokuba and..." Jou smirked. "Ryou."

Marik nodded, never looking away from me. "Ryou...okay."

Suddenly, he turned and reattached his mask, striding from the room with his now-masked team mates in tow. I gaped after them, hardly believing that he had just left. Wait..."Did he even answer my question?" Malik shook his head, looking puzzled. "What the fuck just happened?"

**Setting the scene...setting the scene...action to come! I made Ryou really sarcastic and snarky in this story...I like it ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have so many ideas for this story...I can't wait! You'll start seeing why it's not so obvious who Ryou ends up with soon enough. Enjoy!**

**1wildrose1 .. x**

_**Rating:**_ NC-17  
><em><strong>Pairing (s):<strong>_ Ryou/(?) You're going to have to read to see who he ends up with ;P  
><em><strong>Spoilers:<strong>_ None – this is AU  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ I don't own Yugioh or any of the characters...sadface...  
><em><strong>Summary:<strong>_ When we're competing, I understand him – his moves, his looks, his mind. But, when it's just us...What kind of game was he playing then? AU

_**Warnings:**_** Shounen-ai **(Male/male relationships), **Yaoi** (Male/male sexual relationships – though there will be forewarning of the chapters that contain the explicit stuff), **Language**, **Torture**, **Gore** and **AU**.

Yami Marik = Marik, Marik = Malik, Yami Bakura = Bakura, Bakura = Ryou.

**I feel so rude when I put so much swearing in this, but I want it to be gritty. If it's too much, just tell me and I'll tone it down.**

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Marik**_

"A kid? And a fucking nancy at that!" I growled and threw my helmet across the changing room, making Ryota have to dive to the left to avoid getting hit.

"The hell, man?

"Did you see him?" I paced back and forth, ranting and shedding armour. "Or should I say her? It was a toss up, I'll tell you."

"We were there too, Marik." Yami blew a loose piece of hair out of his face as he and the others leaned against their own benches, changed and ready to leave. "What's got you so riled up? Yeah, he looks like a pussy, but we all know that looks can be deceiving."

"Yeah – take my main man: he's two-foot nothing and he's an okay player."

"For fuck's sake, Honda – I'm not that short!"

"Tell it to my foot rest – it's on the same level, right?"

Yami growled and tackled him to the ground, proceeding to beat the living shit out of him – in a friendly way, of course. I cracked my knuckles and turned away, frowning, and thought about what I had been before. Why was he getting me worked up? We'd all seen him fight before and knew how skilled he was – what should it matter what he looks like? "It's because he's fit as."

...what? "Eh?"

Bakura slid into step beside me, watching me curiously with crossed arms. "English slang – means hot."

"Kay." I shook my head when I realised what he said. "Wait a minute – that's not what this is about!"

"Then what is it, man?" Bakura raised one eyebrow and gripped my shoulder, effectively stopping me from pacing back and forth.

"Uh..." Ah...now I need an answer...uh..."He was so small!"

"Uh huh." Bakura smirked knowingly and handed me my clean shirt. "Whatever, dude – you're coming to the club tonight. Relax a little."

"I can't – I've got to..."

"You can call your brother another time – tonight we club!"

I had to smile at that – Bakura may be a dick most of the time, but when you got past that he was a great friend. My best friend, actually – he always knew what to say. "Uh...yeah, okay."

"Excellent!" He grinned and grabbed all my armour from where I had chucked it and ran out the door with it. "Bakura! That's my stuff!"

All I got for a response was a cackle.

_**XxXxXxXxXxX**_

"Hey, hey! That guy over there looks pretty desperate – go for it, Marik."

I glanced over to see a skinny guy with long black hair, wearing tiny leather shorts, fishnets and a crop top, exposing a pierced navel – jailbait. And _not_ subtle. I grimaced at the sight of him fluttering his eyelashes and jutting his hip at random men that came near him. "Believe it or not, Bakura, I don't go for sluts."

"Oh, yeah. How's that going for you?" Bakura lead me to the bar, smirking because he knew – he _knew_. He made a clueless face before snapping his fingers, as though it just hit him. "Right, you haven't been laid in months."

I scowled and ordered a much needed beer, leaving him to buy his own. "I'm concentrating on the tournament."

Bakura shook his head and nodded at the bartender, telling him that he'd have the same as me. He turned back to me, on eyebrow raised. "I'm in the tournament as well and I had sex yesterday. In fact, if you won't have him, I'll take Mr. Desperate over there."

I shook my head and pressed the bottle to my lips, drinking deeply and savouring the warm sensation running down my throat. I sighed and watched the black haired boy make his way over from the other side of the club, seeing Bakura tilt his head and raise his beer to him. "I don't know, man – I don't want a cheap fuck."

He shrugged and eyed the approaching boy. "I wouldn't know about that, but I'll try to understand. So, you want a relationship – that's your prerogative. But you don't have to be celibate while your looking for the right person. You need to relax, dude – if you got that worked up over about...whatever his name was..."

"Ryou." I automatically corrected, instantly regretting doing so when his whole face lit up with a smug grin.

"You sure remembered his name fast."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the side, nodding towards the boy who had now reached us, relieved that his presence – though unwanted by me – would distract Bakura from grilling me about that kid from the Beasts. Bakura stood from the stool he was seated on and sauntered over to the kid, bending slightly to whisper in his ear. I downed my drink and waved the empty bottle at the bartender, waiting for him to get me another.

This was going to be a long night if Bakura was going to ditch me – which was to be expected, but whatever. The whole reason why I'd come out was all I could think about in his absence, defeating the purpose of being here in the first place – I could be in my hotel room, not listening to my brother as he chastised me over the phone and seething about a certain kid that decked me twice...

I growled around my mouthful of beer – again! I was thinking about him again! I didn't even know what got to me so bad. I mean, the first time, it cost us the tournament and I just wanted to know who he was so that I could know my enemy – I was obsessed actually; reading any article ever written about the Yokohama Beasts and spending hours studying pictures. I always knew which one was him because they each had a different colour band around their weapon – his was bright green. But I couldn't find any names or faces anywhere – they were a secretive team by tradition. I'd found a lot of history on them, saying that only men of high intelligence and skill made the team, so pretty much all of them were small and stealthy, even from years back. In fact, it had never been recorded that the Beasts ever revealed their identities to anyone outside their home town – I guess this generation didn't care as much. That was so unlike other teams – the rest of us went for muscle, brawn rather than brain. I hummed to myself in thought – their tactics were clearly working.

However, I had no excuse for my obsession the second time – I knew the likelihood of one of them taking at least one of us out again was high and it was mere coincidence that it happened to be me and him in that face off. But I couldn't help but take it personally – what made him better than me? I had felt that obsession bubble again and couldn't let him go without seeing his face again. Once I did, I was disappointed – I don't know why. I knew they would be small – I knew – but...he just...got to me.

I was calling the bartender to get a third beer – the second one seeming to have evaporated without me noticing – when I saw a flash of white across the room. Focusing, I stopped breathing – it was him. And, _damn_...he was dancing with one of his team mates, whose name didn't matter, dressed in a simple outfit of fitted black jeans and a green shirt – I was getting the impression that green was his favourite colour. It was visible even from where I sat that his cheeks were flushed and his skin bore a light sheen of sweat. I let out a low breath, graciously accepting my drink when it was passed to me. Okay, so Bakura was right – he was _fit as_. Just my type – sexy, not slutty.

But he was a Beast – out of bounds. I sighed again and threw a glance over at Bakura, rolling my eyes at the sight of him making out with the kid he had met not ten minutes ago against the end of the bar. The bartender shook his head and gave me a sympathetic look. "I think you're on your own, mate."

I smiled back – more at his Australian-Japanese accent than anything. My eye was drawn back to Ryou once again, dancing away. "I don't know, I think I'll be able to find some company."

He followed my gaze and smirked. "Want me to send a drink over to him?"

I went to decline, but was cut off by Bakura's hand on my shoulder and his voice slurring in my ear. "Man, he's so desperate – you okay if I duck out for a while?"

Ordinarily, I would have just grumbled and gone home – after all, he was the only reason I was here – but I saw that flash of white out of the corner of my eye. I inclined my head towards him, seeing the friend he was with leaning towards him and speaking, all the while hanging off some guy. A few seconds later, his friend left with the guy, leaving him alone. Suddenly, his eyes locked with my own across the expanse of the club, past the dancing bodies as though they weren't there. Admittedly, I probably should have answered Bakura before... "Never mind – I see you'll be _fine_."

He waved a hand in Ryou's line of sight to get his attention and gestured the stool he had vacated earlier. Ryou pulled an amused face and shrugged his shoulders, beginning to make his way over to me. Oh, shit..."Later, man." I looked over my shoulder to see Bakura leading the black haired kid out, holding him by the arse and grinning back at me. What a dick.

I looked up at the bartender in an attempt not to stare as Ryou approached. "I think I'll take that drink."

He nodded and served me two glasses of something dark and strong looking. He just shrugged when I gave him a questioning look. "Trust me, mate – this will help."

To be honest, I didn't usually trust any other drink than beer – beer was safe; I knew what was in it and it didn't change all that much across the brands. But this was shaping up to be a not-so usual night, now wasn't it? I took a gulp, wincing at the burn of what I could only assume was whisky. Okay – what do I say to him? Act cold or friendly? "Marik, wasn't it?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, gesturing the stool and drink to him. "Yeah, that's right."

He took a seat and glanced back at the dancing crowd – did he want to dance? Fuck...I was notoriously bad at dancing. Seriously, I would be convinced I have dyspraxia or something if I didn't have such a physical line of work. To my relief, he just turned back shaking his head. "What great friends we have, right? You know, Malik has been trying to make me come over here for, like, an hour." He shook his head and lifted his glass, tilting it towards me before taking a sip. "Thanks by the way."

I nodded, not knowing what to say. "No problem." His whole face scrunched as he pushed the glass away – it was really...cute. I nearly shook myself for thinking it, but it was true. Maybe...maybe I really owed Bakura for having the balls to call him over. "Yeah, it's not a sipping kind of drink."

"I guessed." He sucked his cheeks in for a second before bringing his glass up to his lips again, this time taking a gulp. He was able to keep a straight face until a fit of coughing escaped him. I laughed at his antics – he was clearly trying to act macho or something in retaliation to my earlier comments about his appearance. I cringed internally, remembering how rude I'd been...I'm not even sure why I'd acted like that. He shook his head, giving up the charade after another sharp cough. "Okay, okay – not my poison."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Really? Now why would you say that?" My voice dripped in sarcasm as I raised my hand at the bartender – whose name, I saw on his name tag, was Logan; I suppose he wasn't born in Japan then. "What you having?"

He looked up at Logan, smiling at him. "Do you do cocktails?"

Logan snorted and gave him a jokingly arrogant smirk. "I'm Australian, mate."

Ryou grinned and shook his head, as though disbelievingly. "Of course, how could I have questioned you?" He rolled his eyes. "I'll have a Bloody Aztec please."

"Coming right up."

I should probably have used the time in which they bantered to think up an interesting topic to talk to him about and prove that I'm not some judgemental jerk that pretty much told him to his face that I didn't think he was good enough to take me down. Yeah, but all I did was stare at his face, marvelling at how good he looked when smiling – and I made sure nothing more than friendly banter happened between him and Logan, but that went without saying. To me, at least. So, when he turned to me, drink in hand and eyes curious, I was at a loss. Luckily, he started the conversation for me. "You going to answer my question?"

I frowned – when had he asked me something? Oh, God – had I spaced out? "Question?"

He nodded, trailing a finger around the edge of his glass. He seemed a lot calmer than he had been when I'd met him before – understandable, really. "Yeah, the one you avoided answering earlier today." His eyes met mine again, sharp and calculating. "Why did you want to see my face?"

Ah, that question. I'd walked out on him earlier because...well, I didn't know how to answer. "I told you, I wanted to know who the guy was that took me down."

He shook his head. "That's not it."

I sighed and rubbed my face, gulping down the rest of my whisky – I was beginning to feel the pleasant buzz from the alcohol now. "Well, that's the only answer I have."

Ryou stared at me intensely for a good while, finally downing the rest of his drink and standing up, indicating that I should do the same. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Despite my question, I stood with him, waving to Logan so that I could pay for the night.

He just shook his head and grabbed my coat for me, handing it over when I put my credit card away. "I don't like it here – and, by the looks of it, neither do you."

"You don't like it?" I followed him through the throng of dancers, all the way to the exit. Pulling my jacket on, I looked ahead to see him hailing a cab. "What are you doing?"

He threw a look over his shoulder that clearly said 'just go with it' and climbed in the taxi that had stopped in front of him, leaving the door open for me. I looked back at the club, contemplating my options. Though I really didn't want to go back into that place, I could always go home – but I couldn't deny that I was intrigued. I'd never met anyone quite like him – who else would walk up to their rival, have a drink with them and then invite them into a cab that could go anywhere? I should have been more suspicious, but oh well.

"Well? What is it, Marik?" I looked back at him, smiling up at me mysteriously from the dim interior of the taxi. The way he said my name was...different. Whether good or bad, I didn't know. "Are you coming?"

**These first two chapters are just giving you a taste of the characters – they'll start getting longer and more plot filled from now on. Tell me what you think and I'll update sooner ;) I hold no guilt by blackmailing you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm really enjoying planning this story – I've got so much to put in this, it's crazy ;) Enjoy!**

**1wildrose1 .. x**

_**Rating:**_ NC-17  
><em><strong>Pairing (s):<strong>_ Ryou/(?) You're going to have to read to see who he ends up with ;P  
><em><strong>Spoilers:<strong>_ None – this is AU  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ I don't own Yugioh or any of the characters...sadface...  
><em><strong>Summary:<strong>_ When we're competing, I understand him – his moves, his looks, his mind. But, when it's just us...What kind of game was he playing then? AU

_**Warnings:**_** Shounen-ai **(Male/male relationships), **Yaoi** (Male/male sexual relationships – though there will be forewarning of the chapters that contain the explicit stuff), **Language**, **Torture**, **Gore** and **AU**.

Yami Marik = Marik, Marik = Malik, Yami Bakura = Bakura, Bakura = Ryou.

**Being honest, I have no idea if there are houses such as the one I describe anywhere near Tokyo because I've never been to Japan, but meh – creative licence.**

**I've changed the time span of this story – in the first chapter, the tournament was going to last three weeks but that just wouldn't work if I wanted to fit everything else in. It's now lasting eight weeks and maybe some time after the tournament finishes.**

_**Chapter Three**_

_**Ryou**_

I could feel his eyes on me from where I sat on the other side of the back seat, but I stayed determinedly staring out of the window at the streets of Tokyo flashing by. "It's a beautiful city." He just murmured in response, keeping his gaze focused on me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking in that club – the setting was too unnatural for me to read him – and that unnerved me. I'd never met anyone that I couldn't read – anyone that kept such a perfect mask of stoicism. I never thought that would be the case – after all, he had sulked when he didn't get his way after the initiation match today, making me think that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that was all I really had to base him on before we talked at the club. I'd thought, as I strolled towards him after his friend left, that I would get an answer out of him easily.

Well, I do love a challenge. "Were you born in Kyoto?"

I threw a glance towards him, seeing the way he still had his eyes steadily focused on my face, expression blank. "Why do you ask?"

I touched a fingertip to the window, watching as the condensation gathered around it. "Kyoto is in your team name, but I've read that not a lot of you actually come from there." I shrugged, dragging my finger down, leaving a dewy trail in its stead. "Is that true?"

He tilted his head to the side, hesitant for a moment, eyes still fixed. "Only one of our team was actually born there. I, myself, was born is Egypt and raised in Kyoto."

"Egypt? So you're African."

"I prefer Egyptian." I nodded, wiping my hand on my jeans to dry it. He took his eyes of me for a moment, glancing out of the window on his side, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where did you say we're going?"

"I didn't." The cab driver was concentrating on the road, clearly not listening to our conversation. "I want to go somewhere where nobody knows our names or faces – that way we can get to know each other without our teams accusing us of foul play."

"I see...and where would that be?" His eyes narrowed slightly as they scanned my face for signs of deception – after all, I was a stranger to him.

I smiled at him, trying my best to conceal the excitement bubbling in my stomach – I had been surprised when he followed me all the way out of the club, seeing as we had only learnt each other's names mere hours before. He was intriguing...and it had been a long time since someone had truly interested me. After he had left without answering my question earlier, I couldn't stop thinking about the incident – he had completely avoided my question and I was having none of it. I would find out why he had cornered me today and been so insistent. "Trust between enemies, remember?" He wasn't the only one who could avoid a question.

There it was again, that scowl – the very same one which had twisted his lips when Jou told him we'd agreed to nothing after the Killers took off their masks. I stored that expression in my mental files of his behaviour – so far, all I had so far was the fact that the only thing that cold break his icy façade was the denial of something he wanted. "You're not going to tell me."

I shrugged one shoulder and looked out of the window. "There's no need." The cab turned onto a private road leading to a huge, yet derelict manor house just outside the city, slowing to a stop in front of the collapsed doorway – it could have been a beautiful house in its prime, judging by the flaking white paint on the walls and the endless acres of wild grass. It was easy to imagine a pristine building in the place of the crumbling structure and evenly cropped fresh grass – maybe a multitude of colourful flowers.

The cab driver turned to me with a frown. "You sure this is the place?"

I nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, we're here."

He just shrugged. "Whatever – that'll be 6500¥. You want me to wait, kid? Or d'you want the number?"

I handed over the money. "The number, please – we'll be a while."

He tossed a business card my way and gave us a mock salute as a goodbye when we got out. Marik stepped up beside me and we watched in silence as the cab drove down the long driveway and then disappeared around a corner. I smiled at him warmly and, without a word, made my way into the house, climbing over the rotting wooden doors. It was a few seconds before I heard him follow, but he was definitely on my tail.

Directly in front of the doors was a huge stairway which was cracked in places and sunken where the damp had saturated the wood. I breathed in the stale air and looked over my shoulder to see Marik grimace at the state of the place. "Want to risk the stairs?"

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

"Absolutely not."

His violet eyes swept over the stairs, taking them in and evaluating the risk. Then he shrugged and stepped forward, testing each step before putting his weight on it, slowly making his way up. I grinned, making another note: he didn't like backing down. I followed the path he was making, finding that my eyes were too busy trailing down his body to find a safe route of my own, admiring the sight of his very grabbable arse clenching and relaxing beneath the fabric of those fitted jeans while he climbed.

We reached the landing and he looked back at me, waiting for instruction. I smiled and lead the way down the long hallway and into the room at the end. The floor had almost completely collapsed here, leaving the support beams exposed. Without hesitation, I began to cross the middle beam, spreading my arms wide for balance as I placed one foot in front of the other in precise motions, making it to a thick slab of surviving floor and settling on it, waiting for Marik to follow.

Crossing my legs and leaning against the wall behind me, I closed my eyes and breathed in again, inhaling the smell of dry rot and relaxing. This was better – far more natural than the nightclub. I listened to him sit beside me, knowing that his eyes would be focused on me again.

The silence only stretched for enough time for the dust to settle before Marik broke it. "What is this place?" I smiled, making yet another note: he liked to be in the know.

"An old manor house – it's been abandoned since the 20's." He made a small noise, clearly not satisfied with my explanation. I snorted and opened my eyes, giving him a smug look. "What? You didn't answer my question fully."

Marik frowned deeply, seeming to be debating something with himself. "If you tell me why we're here – what this place really is – then I'll answer you."

I pouted slightly – that was easier than I'd hoped it would be. I had wanted a challenge...oh, well..."This place...it isn't really anything to anyone – it's privately owned by some guy that inherited it but never wanted to spend the time or money restoring the place. I stumbled across it three years ago – the first time I ever came to Tokyo for the tournament. I was a bit stressed out from all the publicity and pressure – only being fifteen, and all – so I went for a cab ride to the outskirts of the city, but stopped the driver when I saw this place in the distance. I explored for a few hours, eventually finding this room and it's...well, I'll show you later." I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on top. "It's really relaxing here – I came here every time I could after that. One time, the guy that owns it was here inspecting it – I think it was just after he inherited it – and he said it was okay for me to be here as long as I don't damage it any more than it is. Not that he would notice, but whatever."

Marik's lips pulled up in a soft smile, making my stomach do a little flip – I liked the way it made his face light up. I would have to make him smile more. "You really are full of surprises."

Nodding, I turned my head to face him, pressing my cheek against my kneecap. "Of course – how so this time?"

He shrugged, leaning back on his hands. "You were so adamant that your face and name stayed exclusively your own not long ago, but now you're taking me – a complete stranger – to a place that's clearly special to you. Why would you share this with me?"

I frowned – he had a point actually...why did I bring him here? I'd been thinking about going to a place where we'd be more comfortable, but I could have easily taken him to a park or a diner or something. I'd even denied Malik – who I'd known since I was ten years old – the chance to come here when he wanted to know where I'd been disappearing to so regularly. Hmm...maybe this situation really was as interesting as I'd hoped..."I wanted to be comfortable."

He shook his head and turned his body towards me, a determined look on his face. "You want me to answer you truthfully, but you're not being honest yourself."

I bit the inside of my cheek – okay, I know I wanted a challenge, but he could read me. No one has been able to read me. Ever. And that...made me wonder, really – what kind of guy was he? Every time I think I've got him down, he shows me a new side. I sighed, making a new mental note: I would get nowhere in the way of answers from him if I was being deceptive. "Right...so, shall we make a new agreement?" I met his eyes. "Walls down – complete honesty. Nothing leaves this room."

Marik nodded, relaxing slowly and visibly – the tension in his shoulders eased up and the shielded glaze to his eyes faded. "Walls down." He agreed. Note: he's liable to making agreements. He gazed around the room, taking in the huge panel of wall behind us. "That peels back, right?" I nodded. "Is that what's so special about this room?"

I nodded and turned my torso, gripping the bottom right corner and pulling it back. I smiled when I heard him let out a breath at the sight – it was a perfect view of the gardens and woodland beyond. Though wild and overgrown in reality, from this height the grass looked lush and the weeds created spots of colour in swirling patterns leading to the first line of trees – the woods looked dark and mysterious, the lack of light in this late hour making it seem like anything could come crawling out of the depths. It was like a scene from a dark fairytale – one where you never knew whether there would be a happy ending. I loved it...and it seemed that he did too. "I've always liked the way it looks at night."

He nodded in agreement. "I like the night – the moonlight makes everything look clean and pale."

Note: despite his tough, manly exterior, he appreciated beauty – a rare thing these days. I returned to my original position, watching his reaction to what I said next to see if the walls really were down. "I answered your question."

Violet eyes looked back at me, nose wrinkling in thought. "I don't know how to answer yours – I'm not sure myself." He ran his fingers through his hair, pursing his lips as he considered his answer. "First time, it was just a wounded ego; I mean, I – the captain of the until-then Wargame champions – got taken out by the team that barely scraped through the initiation match. I was pissed off that I'd lost. The second time..." He shrugged. "Well, I guess I found it...I don't know, too coincidental? You know, it was weird that the same guy took me out twice. I'm the sort of person that believes that everything happens for a reason, so I thought that it was important that I knew who you were."

I nodded, raking in that information to store. "But you seemed disappointed."

He looked sheepish at that, making my interest peak – what had I said to break his serious persona? "Yeah, I'm sorry about that – I don't know what came over me. I'd read about the Beasts in detail, so I knew that you would all be a lot smaller than our players, but I thought that I..." Marik shifted a little, looking uncomfortable. He coughed and stared at the floor between his feet, appearing like he wasn't going to answer – well, I answered _his_ question in full.

"You thought that you...?" I prompted, daring to slide my foot through the dust on the floor between us, prodding him with it. I smirked when he jumped, clearly having been pulled out of his thoughts. He gave me a questioning look, to which I just rose my eyebrows expectantly.

Scratching his jaw, he looked away. "I thought that I should have felt something different than what I did."

Note: he likes to beat around the bush when he's uncomfortable. Well, there's something he's going to learn about me – I get what I want. "And what did you feel?"

He rubbed his face and sighed. "You're not going to let it go, are you?" I shook my head and he let out a small laugh – I decided that I liked that sound and, much like his smile, I wanted to make him do it more often. He grabbed my foot, which had resumed prodding him, and rolled his eyes – but I caught the tightness in his jaw and the way he avoided looking directly at me. "I never expected to feel so..." His lips twitched as he tried to find the right word. "...attached?"

I had an idea of what he was getting at. "Attached? What do you mean by that?" Just because I suspected what he meant didn't mean that I was going to make it any easier for him.

He grunted, closing his eyes in frustration – he still hadn't let go of my foot. "You know what I mean."

I grinned, shaking my head. "Enlighten me."

Marik shook his head and looked away. "...I mean attracted."

My heart beat a little faster in my chest, making me feel warm – that felt good to hear. I didn't realise how much of a relief it would be to hear him say it – maybe I'd been holding my breath about him without thinking about it. "I see."

Without a word, I leaned against the wall again, shifting a little closer to him with my hands palm-down on the floor. There was silence for a few minutes while we enjoyed the cool breeze from behind us. Eventually, I saw his hand move from the corner of my eye – it started and stopped a lot, proceeded and withdrew. I smiled and just waited, letting him do this on his terms – after all, he had been alone when he asked to see my face at first, putting the ball in my court by showing himself before me, and then he had agreed to come to a place of my choice so that I would be comfortable; it was only fair that he had the advantage here.

Again, the hand reached forward, stopping inches away mine. I heard him suck in a breath before brushing his fingers against mine, taking a few seconds to rest them on top. We didn't act like anything was different after that – just talked like we had been for hours, but moved the subject onto more personal things, like our childhood, our daily lives, our friends, our family. We got to know each other away from the prying eyes of our teams, like I had suggested in the cab.

We didn't even notice the time go by until we peeled back the wall behind us and took the opportunity to watch the sunrise together, revelling in the warm glow. I sighed, reluctant to leave. "Back to reality, I suppose." I smiled apologetically at him. "I have to be present at the first match."

He nodded and stood, helping me up with the hand that still hadn't released mine. "I guess we'll have to meet again later."

I nodded, keeping close to him while I still could. "I guess we will."

**If anyone is interested, 6500¥ = £50.9510667 or $82.1535. It was a long cab ride...**

**I know I said that I would make this chapter longer, but I fail at writing long chapters -.- Meh, I'm happy with this either way.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Uh...can't think of a note here...I just hope you're having as much fun reading this as I'm having writing it...even if the chapters are always shorter than I intend them to be ;) Enjoy!**

**1wildrose1 .. x**

_**Rating:**_ NC-17  
><em><strong>Pairing (s):<strong>_ Ryou/(?) You're going to have to read to see who he ends up with ;P  
><em><strong>Spoilers:<strong>_ None – this is AU  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ I don't own Yugioh or any of the characters...sadface...  
><em><strong>Summary:<strong>_ When we're competing, I understand him – his moves, his looks, his mind. But, when it's just us...What kind of game was he playing then? AU

_**Warnings:**_** Shounen-ai **(Male/male relationships), **Yaoi** (Male/male sexual relationships – though there will be forewarning of the chapters that contain the explicit stuff), **Language**, **Torture**, **Gore** and **AU**.

Yami Marik = Marik, Marik = Malik, Yami Bakura = Bakura, Bakura = Ryou.

**I really make them aggressive towards their own friends XD It's all in a friendly way of course...**

**WARNING! Hint of drug use!**

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Ryou**_

"So..."

I looked up to see Malik grinning down at me, his long blond hair tied at the base of his neck. "So?"

He puffed away a flyaway strand from his face and motioned me to lay back on the bench I was sitting on. "I'll be spotter first." I shrugged and lay back as he asked, gripping the bar either side of his hands and started to do bench presses. "And _so_, what happened last night after I left? I got pretty worried when they said that you didn't come back to the hotel last night, but I knew you would have a good reason – so spill!"

I rolled my eyes, muscles straining from the weights. "Aren't you supposed to be counting?"

"I am – you're on nine. Don't avoid the question."

I breathed out slowly in time to the lifts and puffed out with the drops. What could I tell him? Marik and I hadn't talked about who we could tell about...whatever it was that we were to each other. I decided to play it safe and tell only vague half-truths. "I talked with him, is all."

"Talked? All night?" Malik's eyebrows wriggled suggestively. "Twelve."

"Yes, _talked_. As in, we actually talked." I grit my teeth against the burn that started to develop in my arms and chest – I think he may have picked a heavier weight than I was used to.

Malik noticed the quiver in my muscles and took a bit more of the weight into his own hands. "Oh...well, that's boring. You risked coming to the gym on no sleep for a late night chat?" He snorted. I knew he was glad to hear that 'nothing' happened between Marik and I because he was still pretty adamant that he was going to sleep with me. Whatever..."Nineteen...twenty."

He helped me guide the weight onto the rack and switched positions with me when I got up and shook my arms out before grabbing the bar and started spotting. "It's hardly a huge risk to come to the gym on no sleep – besides, I slept during the game."

Malik let out a low chuckle and pursed his lips. "That's completely unprofessional, you know."

I rose an eyebrow at him. "Oh, yeah? Since you paid so much attention to the game, you can tell me who scored the first point. Here's a clue – it wasn't my arse."

"Touché, my friend." He grinned. "It's their fault – if the Royals and Reds weren't such boring teams, we would have had some actual action to be focusing on."

"Whatever – you're the only one who's praying for some _action_."

He nearly let go of the weight completely as his eyes lit up. I gripped the bar tighter while he fumbled to regain his composure. "Ha! I _knew_ something happened – tell, tell!"

I shook my head. "You're on fifteen, by the way. And nothing happened, dipshit – I was joking." Well, that was sort of a lie – he did invite me back to his hotel room later tonight; plus, you know, we held hands all night...Wow, that sounds pretty pathetic, thinking about it – I mean, I'm eighteen and he's nineteen and we didn't even kiss...or hug for that matter. But it was intense at the time! Ignoring his grumbles of me being boring, I counted his last few presses and guided the weight onto the rack. "Personally, I'm hoping for a Devils vs Monsters match – now that would keep me awake."

Malik nodded in agreement and lead the way to the machines to do abdominal crunches. "That would be awesome, but I know they aren't together in the first round." Wait...how did he know? Malik rolled his eyes at my confused look. "Jou was drawing the play-offs today, remember? Or is that when you slept?"

"I think it's pretty obvious what the answer to that question is." I scrunched my nose at the burn in my belly. "I don't even know why I bother with weight training – I never bulk up."

He laughed at my expense and looked over from his own machine. "Well, you know what the best exercise is..."

"Fuck off, Malik."

_**Marik**_

"What the hell, man? I get back into the club after I was done with that guy and you were gone!" Bakura ran up behind me and grabbed my shoulders to stop me mid stride, cackling when he nearly made me overbalance. Suddenly, he stopped and grinned maniacally. "Wait...aren't they the same clothes as yesterday? Walk of shame!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, prodding me with his finger over and over. "So it went well with Ryou?"

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, continuing on the path to my hotel room. "We spent the night together, yes, but nothing happened." Of course, Bakura wouldn't have that – he shook his head and reached down to his belt. Oh, God..."Bakura, no!"

"If you don't tell me, I'll do it!"

"Seriously..."

"Meat spin, Marik – meat spin!"

"For the love of God!"

"It's peaking!"

"For fuck's sake, Bakura – fine!" He grinned triumphantly and tucked himself away – I swear, that's got me to tell him so many secrets it's unbelievable.

Some girls walked past to see Bakura zipping up his jeans – he just grinned and winked. "Why hello, ladies." They all turned pink and turned to each other, whispering and giggling. "So...what's the news, big dog? What's the happy-hap?"

"...what the fuck have you taken?"

"Fuck knows, man, but it was good and it smiled at me!" His eyes were far too dilated and flicked left to right rapidly. Oh, screw this – Bakura was a damn nuisance when he was high, but he always remembered what he did and what people told him. So...I had no choice but to spill. "No avoiding – what happened, what happened? Did you...?" He mimed thrusting and groaned loudly, making feminine moans to boot.

I clamped my hand over his mouth and hissed at him. "No! I'm not some man-whore that will fuck anything that moves."

Bakura snorted and licked my hand, making me let go, glad that the hallway we were walking down was empty. "Fuck, man – I thought I'd taught you well! Well, whatever, don't worry – if he won't spread his legs then I'm sure those girls back there will..."

"Bakura, that's not it and you fucking know it." I shook my head as we got to my door. "Besides, you know I don't...you know..."

He began to giggle insanely, leaning against the door for support. "Well...well...fuck, man – I was under the impression that you were rather partial to a bit of pussy nowadays."

Oh, that was a poor joke – in really bad taste, too. Shit...I needed to cool down – I seriously wanted to kick my best friend's arse for insulting some guy I'd known for a day. I mean, sure, we'd made an instant connection, but I really shouldn't put that ahead of my friendship. A friendship to a currently drugged up borderline sociopath, granted – but a friendship that has lasted for near on seventeen years, since we were two years old. But he fucking knew that them being women wasn't the problem – it was that I actually liked this one and I'm not enough of a dick to ruin it before anything starts. "Don't call him that."

"Oh, touched a nerve? I do apologise." He didn't look sorry. "You got time? I really want to watch pokémon and eat junk – got the munchies."

I shook my head. "Sorry, man – got to clean the place. He's coming over."

Bakura's face practically split in two with a grin. "Oh! Oh, fuck, man – get in! I'll go, I'm off!" He bounced around me as I watched in silence, waiting for him to snap out of it. After a few more jumps, he stopped and put on a serious face. "Hey – no glove, no love." Grinning again, he backed away. "Happy pillaging!"

I rolled my eyes and let myself into my room. Seconds after I shut the door, I heard a knock. Not even bothering to open the door, I called to him through the wood. "What Bakura?"

"You didn't tell me what happened!"

I chuckled, knowing how pissed he was going to be at the answer. "We held hands."

"...the fuck? You made me get my cock out for _that_?"

"No one made you do anything."

"Oh, for fuck's sake...I'm sobering up. Damn it all to hell – you better fuck him, Marik, or I'm going to do it for you!" I punched my side of the door in warning. "Joking, man – joking! I'm gone."

I waited at the door, listening to his footsteps disappear. Well, time to get ready for...whatever was going to happen tonight – damn...I hadn't even given myself a chance to be nervous yet...Did I even have condoms? I dove across the bed and checked the bedside table, nearly choking when I opened the drawer – inside was a collection of every kind of condom imaginable, as well as an assortment of lube bottles and...other unmentionable objects. So, getting condoms was not on my to do list – what was on there, however, was to find out how the hell Bakura got my key...and how he found a sex shop in a city this large in such a short amount of time.

Right...no time to think about that – time to clean.

_**Ryou**_

The lobby of Marik's hotel was set out in almost the same way as my own, only differing in the décor and its profound lack of cream coloured chaise lounges. The huge crystal chandelier hung high above my head as I made my way across the marble floor to the reception desk. I cleared my throat to get the receptionist's attention. "Could you tell me which room Marik Ishtar is staying in?" Yeah...I think his last name was Ishtar – at least, that's what he told me last night.

The woman narrowed her eyes through mascara-caked lashes and tapped her long red fingernails against the desk. "I'm sorry, sir –" Oh, she did _not_ sound sorry. "– but I simply cannot divulge that information unless you have an..."

"I have an admittance card, just not a keycard." Take that, bitch – I came prepared.

She pursed her lips and picked up the phone by her keyboard, typing in one number and pressing the receiver to her ear. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up – and, boy, did her demeanour change. "Why hello there, Mr. Ishtar – how are you this afternoon?" Someone was a Killers fan. There was a short response from the other end. "I'm fine, thank you, sir – aren't you sweet for asking?" Mother of Christ...I've never wanted to hit a woman more than now. Her eyes rolled back to me and I swear I saw her lip curl – the fuck? "I have a _gentleman_ here who wishes to know your room number – do you give permission for me to pass on that information." A few seconds later, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, sir – bye."

Slamming the phone down, she turned her less than enthusiastic attention back to me. "Room one."

...one? _One_? I had to waste my time with Menstruating Mary when I would have been right with the first door I would have tried? Fuck my life. "Thanks." It should not be that hard to thank someone...whatever. I headed through the door which lead to the VIP rooms, swiping the admittance card through the slot to let myself through.

The door opened into a ridiculously long hallway with eight doors. I made my way partway down the length of the room to face the first one, now being able to see the gold plaque that read: '_Kyoto Killers: Captain_'. Eh? I squinted at the next closest door, just being able to make out the plaque, saying: '_Kyoto Killers: Rank 2_' Every other room – though too far away for me to read them – had gold plaques nailed to them. The Killers paid to label their rooms? Seriously?

Shrugging, I turned my attention back to the door in front of me and lifted my fist to knock, pausing when I heard someone shout to my right. The '_Rank 2_' door was now open and...Bakura? Yeah, that was it – Bakura was leaning out of it, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, Ryou! Wait a second!"

Oh...I didn't really know what to think as he sauntered up to me, clearly used to wearing confidence like a second skin – I'd never talked to him for any period of time, so I had nothing to base him on. What would he do if Marik didn't tell him that I was coming? I just stood still, fist still raised, waiting for him to reach me. When he did, he leaned against the wall beside me casually, grin still in place – this close, I could see the slight bloodshot in his eyes and the dark circles beneath them. Had he not slept? "Hi..."

"It's Bakura." Still grinning.

"I know." I frowned, lowering my hand slowly. "Did Marik...?"

"Yeah, he told me that you were coming."

"Oh..." I shifted a little, feeling uncomfortable – why were these Killers so hard to read? "Who else did he tell?"

Bakura's grin dimmed a little, his eyes gaining a glint that I couldn't place. Was that good or bad? "Just me."

I nodded. Okay...that was good. He had told his best friend and I had told mine – that was fine. Except...my best friend didn't seem so – _sexy_ – dark when I discussed it with him. Wait...I shook myself internally – I just thought of him as sexy. Well, I guess he was – it was okay to admit that, right? I mean, Marik and I weren't even dating – we were just arranging to meet in his hotel room for unforeseen activities. "So...um...I'll be going in – unless you had something you wanted to say?"

He tilted his head a little. "I just came out to inspect the goods up close." His eyes raked up and down my body, his grin brightening again as they did. "Well, _Ryou_..." I nearly yelped when he leaned in close, breathing against my face. "Not bad." With that, he spun around and disappeared back into the room he came from.

It took a few moments for the shock to subside, allowing me to breathe again – what was _that_? Licking my lips shakily, I forced myself to stop thinking about the way he whispered my name – I was here for Marik, after all. Yes, Marik – the guy I was beginning to really like. I took in a few more breaths, calming down by thinking back to the lengthy conversation the two of us had last night and how much I enjoyed his company.

I sighed almost dreamily – thinking of Marik certainly rid my thoughts of Bakura fast – and lifted my fist to firmly knock a few times on the door. "Just a sec!" His voice through the door made me smile and, after about a minute, the door swung inwards to reveal an expressionless – albeit slightly out of breath – Marik. "Ryou."

I twisted my lips into an amused grin. "Playing the guy with no emotions again?"

One blond eyebrow rose in response as he stepped aside, letting me come in. His room was large and stunningly decorated – just like every one of the VIP rooms in the chain of hotels that sponsored the Tournament. The fabrics of the duvet, pillow cases and curtains were dyed a rich emerald green to match the walls, complimenting the dark wood of most of the furniture, and the walls and surfaces were littered with beautiful artwork. It was a fairly simple layout beyond that – just a king-size bed against the back wall with bedside tables either side of it, a plush green love seat in one corner facing a flat-screen TV and two doors leading, presumably, to the bathroom and walk-in wardrobe, like they did in my own room. I heard the door close behind me. "I didn't know if you would come."

Eyeing the dishevelled bed skirting, I saw evidence of screwed up clothes being stuffed under there. "Is that why you tidied up so thoroughly?"

He stepped up beside me, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at the offending items. "I don't use the maid service when I'm staying at hotels because I like my privacy. I guess you could say that I'm used to the mess – it only occurred to me to tidy up about an hour ago."

I looked at him incredulously. "An hour ago? It took you an hour to do this?" Looking around, I saw evidence of glasses and snacks being cleared away hastily – water rings and crumbs littered the bedside tabletops.

Marik shook his head and walked forward, kicking the clothes back under the bed. "I had every intention to begin a good job of cleaning up an hour ago – then something good come on TV."

"Always the way." I smiled at him and sat down on the sofa, watching him hover awkwardly in the middle of the room. Well, I didn't expect him to be the uncomfortable one – this was his room, after all. My hotel was always crowded because we were the current Wargame champions, but that wasn't the only reason why I agreed to meet him here – last night, he had followed me all the way to the outskirts of the city without fail, showing me so much trust even though I was a stranger. I thought that this would show that I reciprocated that trust. Gesturing the space beside me, I decided to take the initiative. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He stared at that space for a moment or two before he licked his lips and nodded, moving forward and gingerly taking a seat. Wow...it was a lot easier to talk to him last night – had that just been the alcohol in our systems? Seriously, watching him rub his hands together, elbows on his knees and eyes focused on anything but me, made me nervous. Dear Lord, what was it with him? He just made me feel a whole host of emotions that I never usually felt and it had only been a day! "So, what is this?"

I looked up, seeing that he was watching me out of the corner of his eye, showing no other sign that he had spoken. But...what _was_ this? I frowned when I realised that I really didn't know – I'd just assumed that we would get together or something, but, in reality, all we had done was spent the night talking and held hands for a while. Nothing significant had really happened. "You tell me – you were the one who held my hand."

He snorted at that, relaxing just a little by turning his head towards me and letting his face drop the expressionless mask that he had put up. "Held your hand...yeah, I did, didn't I?" Leaning back against the sofa, he laughed again. "Wow, it's been a long time since holding hands was a big thing."

I let out the breath that I'd been holding – okay, so he agreed that, even though it sounds weird, the fact that we had held hands all night was a big deal...ish. I mean, it had taken him quite a few tries to finally place his hand on top of mine, indicating that this was all something entirely different than what he had ever experienced, just like me. "I think the last time holding hands constituted as a relationship I was...seven? Eight, maybe."

He smiled softly and toyed with the bottom of his shirt, looking away from me again. "So, this is a relationship?"

I shrugged. "Uh, yeah – if you want it to be. But maybe it would be better if we were just...I don't know – seeing each other? After all, we hardly know each other, so we should take it slow." Ah, I did _not_ want to just be seeing each other, but it would be weird to get together properly when we have only known each other a day. We were both pretending that this was something intense and special, but it would all fall apart pretty soon if we moved things on too fast.

Marik bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Yeah...okay – take it slow. Sounds good."

"All right..." I pursed my lips and scanned the room, scrambling for something to talk about – my eyes found the back of the door I'd come in through when a thought occurred to me. "Why did you get plaques on all the VIP rooms?"

Marik frowned, following my gaze. "Plaques...?" His eyes suddenly widened in realisation. "Oh, no – we didn't have them done, the hotel did. It's the same in your hotel, but they will say '_Yokohama Beasts_'."

Creasing my brow, I tried picturing my door. "No – our doors don't have them."

"I'm sure they do."

"They don't."

"Oh really?" He grinned and turned towards me, curling one leg beneath him and keeping the other foot on the ground.

"Yeah, really." I kicked off my shoes and crossed my legs, twisting my torso to face him – it sounds really uncomfortable, but I've sat like that since I was a kid; I've got double-jointed hips, according to the doctor.

He cast an eye over my odd way of sitting, but chose not to comment. "If you're so confident, check."

"Are you so determined to get rid of me that you are sending me away to look at a door?" I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "I'm telling you, it would just be easier to feed me to that psycho secretary – and, by the way, what is up with her?"

Marik shrugged his shoulders – which must have been difficult, what with them shaking with laughter. "Oh, you mean Erin? Yeah, she's a little nuts."

"A little? She was about ready to growl at me and pee all around your room to mark it as her territory."

He shook his head, still chuckling. "She's like that to everyone – even the rest of the team. I once bought her a coffee when she was working the night shift because I was heading that way anyway – she must have taken it as a marriage proposal or something because ever since she's just hovered around me, knocking on my door every so often with these pathetic excuses that my phone isn't working or they used a different kind of washing powder for my laundry, so it all needs to be rewashed. It's damn annoying."

I shivered, remembering that red-taloned bitch. "Can't you just tell her that you're gay?"

"I would, but I'm not – I'm bi."

Note: I now have both men and women to contend with...not that I'm a jealous person..."She doesn't know that."

Running one hand through his hair, he twitched his nose uncomfortably – okay, that was just adorable. "Yeah...I don't really like to lie."

I had to smile – that was so sweet! I mean, it was probably bullshit, but I liked the way he said it – he sounded so...innocent? Maybe. He was smashing my expectations so rapidly, I was beginning to be immune to the surprise – I had thought that he would be all lewd and insensitive, judging by his manly exterior, but he was turning out to be a real gentleman. "Maybe just put a 'do not disturb' sign on the doorknob?"

His grin returned. "I did."

"Wait – what...?"

"And speaking of not noticing things on doors–" He interrupted. "–why don't you call one of your team mates and ask them what's on the back of your door."

I frowned, pulling out my mobile and flicking through my contacts, selecting Malik and putting it to my ear. "Fine, but I'm only doing this to shut you up – don't you think that I would know if there was a big-ass plaque on my door?"

"Hello?" Malik answered, sounding a little out of breath.

"Malik, do me a favour."

"Ry, I'm kind of busy..." What was that in the background?

"This will be quick."

"Fine – what?"

"Go to the hallway and tell me if there's something on the back of my door."

"Something on the back of your door? Why would there be?"

"Oh, someone just told me that there should be a plaque or some..."

"Oh, yeah, there's a plaque – we've all got one. Yours says: '_Yokohama Beasts – Rank 2_'."

"What? How the hell did I not notice it?"

"Because you're a self-involved prick – can I go now?" How mean.

"That was harsh."

"Oh, you know that I didn't mean it – you just called at an awkward moment."

Was that what I could hear in the background? "...please don't tell me that you've got someone inside you right now."

"...Maybe."

"Ew, Malik! Fuck, I'm going."

"Bye." He sung, hanging up.

"Well, that was disturbing." I threw my phone across my room, shivering at the knowledge that I'd called my friend while he was having sex. Wait – why the hell did he answer? What a grim kid. Remembering Marik's presence, I turned back to him, putting on a blank expression. "He said that there wasn't one."

"Did he now?" The smile on his face grew. "I didn't know that you were second rank – you'll be captain soon enough, right?" ..._damn_, he had good hearing.

I nodded, pouting. "Jou is only doing it for another year before he goes back to college."

I think my heart stopped beating – like, seriously; his fingers were brushing my cheekbones with feather-soft touches. I didn't even know when he reached forward. "You're cute." Well, that was sudden. His fingers trailed down to my jaw while his thumb pressed against my lips, working away the pout.

"You're not so bad yourself." Damn it, that was supposed to be seductive – why did I sound so breathless? Actually...it might be to do with the fact that his face was suddenly a lot closer to my own – a good thing, yes, but the action of him licking his lips alone made me feel like my tongue was made out of cotton, soaking up all of the moisture in my mouth. "Y-you..."

"Me?" Why was he so much more confident all of a sudden? He must be bipolar or something with all the split personalities he seemed to have – was he the tantrum throwing child, the serene man of secrets, the chivalrous gentleman or this suave seducer? "Do you have something to say, Ryou?"

Oh, fuck – I nearly lost control just by hearing him say my name. It didn't help that his hand was now caressing my neck, his thumb rubbing circles on the soft spot behind my ear, which felt damn good. "Um...I..."

"Yes?" His voice was just a whisper, blowing his hot breath across my lip. I...fuck...I couldn't think straight. I just really wanted him to...

"Kiss me." I didn't wait for him to answer, closing the distance by smashing my neglected lips against his teasing ones. He growled in response, pushing back just as fiercely, moving his hand around to the back of my neck to pull me closer. I opened my mouth, whimpering at him to deepen it. He obliged easily, thrusting his tongue inside and pulling at my own so that the dance wasn't just a one-man domination show.

I parted my lips wider, trying to wrap my tongue around his to pull it closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Uncrossing my legs, I twisted the rest of my body towards him, standing on my knees and leaning my weight against him. Suddenly, he pulled back, making me fall forward, landing on top of him. Instead of pushing me back, he laughed lightly and laid back, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me there. "Well, that was a little more than holding hands – I think I just woke the beast."

"That's not fair – you confused me with all that seductive voodoo." I pouted again, making him smile and give me a gentle peck to wipe it away. "Damn it, that's a dangerous weapon."

He nodded and cuddled me closer, seeming content to just hold me there. Note: he's a snuggler – which is a trait that I never used to think was cute, but, in Marik, it was just adorable. "You were the one who said that you wanted to take things slow, so that's all you're getting for now."

I pretended to grumble, but...I think I liked him. Laying my head down on his chest, I found myself glad that nothing further than that quick – albeit heated – make out was going to happen; I really wanted this to last.

Wow...I _really_ liked him.

**I like Marik being the sweet one. I'm sick of people making him crazy – he's just misunderstood, damn it! Yeah...I like Marik XD**

**If this chapter makes no sense, tell me – I can't really tell...**


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